I pride myself on being an annoying parent. I always have a scare story ready to tell the big cherubs whenever an opportunity presents itself. Why they can’t experiment with drugs, why parties are a bad idea, truancy will be detected, the porn police will know if they’ve used the Internet for illicit activities… The list is endless, you name it I have a lecture ready and waiting for them.

Fun is banned in our house, my standing joke, my justification for feeling like I somehow fall short of the mark. Being a conscientious parent is horrific. I constantly look at myself hard in the mirror and know I should do better. I’ve got one shot at this and then they’re gone, on their own path, fuelled or hindered by the teaching I’ve provided. Impossible.

I look at my own life and I’m struck by how short it is. My face and body are aging, but my spirit is young and yearning for adventure. When will I get the chance to explore all of the things I find amazing. Will I ever see the sun rise after watching a sky full of stars on a sandy beach? Will I traverse the jungles to see the temples with my eyes and not through a screen? Will I make a difference to the world, do my actions count, does the universe hear my healing thoughts?

I am on the downward spiral, each day lived is a step further. I want to get off. I want to be on the wheel, the one that comes back up after it’s been down. If only society would let me break free.